Cry.
Not havoc.
Only acid rain tears,
Echoes of old lovers.
Melt into obscurity,
As a novelty of an age.
Nobody knows,
Everyone whispers.
Fatigue as common as breathing.
Exhaustion as sure as pumping blood.
Broken metaphors,
Similes for eras.
I am as ever,
Writing my own epitaph.
Cry.
